


"Happy Valenversary, Gregory"

by Saratonin



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Fluff and Smut, M/M, Smut, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2019-03-20 15:18:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13720446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saratonin/pseuds/Saratonin
Summary: When you're married to the British Government holidays and anniversaries may get rescheduled. Crabbiness will probably ensue.





	"Happy Valenversary, Gregory"

**Author's Note:**

> Many, many thanks to Mottlemoth for organizing the Valentine's calendar on tumblr, as well as to my betas LibetDawn and BigBlueBoxat221B.

Greg hated it when Mycroft had to suddenly travel for work. It didn’t happen often, less than a handful of times a year. It was especially boring if there weren’t any murders on. At the risk of sounding like his brother-in-law he texted his husband.

_BORED GLH_

_Sherlock, is that you? MLH_

_Har-har GLH_

_I’m sorry I have to be away. I recognize how unfortunate the timing is. MLH_

_It just means that we’ll have to celebrate our anniversary when you get back. No biggie. At least if we go out it will be less crowded. Whose dumbarsed idea was it to get married on Valentine’s Day anyway? GLH_

_I think you said “If we don’t go get married this weekend I’m going to run away with Keegan Hirst.” MLH_

_He looks really fit in his rugby kit. GLH_

_So you’ve said. MLH_

_I miss you. GLH_

_I miss you. MLH_

_If you don’t die I’ll reward you when you get home. GLH_

_Promise? MLH_

_Pinky-swear. GLH_

**************

On February 14th, Greg was at work. He wanted it to be just like any other day. But there were bloody roses, chocolates, and hearts everywhere. It was like a Valentine’s tornado went through New Scotland Yard. He tried to be nice, but he was a bit grumpy. After being a bit of a tosser to Sally she quietly told everyone else to leave him alone.

He would have been fine. When he woke up he sent a quick text to Mycroft.

_Happy Anniversary, darling. I love you. GLH_

There’d been no answer. It’s annoying being ignored on your anniversary.

After lunch his desk phone rang. Without looking he picked it up. “DCI Lestrade,” he said sounding as grumpy as he felt.

The receptionist informed him that he’d received a delivery and it was waiting at the front desk. Greg walked to the front of the building expecting something small. Mycroft had probably thought to send flowers or something. He knew that Greg loved a good chocolate covered strawberry edible bouquet. When he rounded the corner from the lifts he stopped short.

His heart skipped a beat, and for the first time that day, he smiled.

There, standing at the receptionist’s desk, was his husband. Looking nothing like a man who’d just been traveling for the last few days. He looked like he normally looked. Handsome, posh, and happy. He smiled his for-Greg-only smile when they locked eyes. Mycroft was holding a single red rose with a small red ribbon bow on it. He handed Greg the rose and bent down for a small kiss on the cheek.

“I couldn’t wait to see you until you came home from work,” Mycroft said softly into his ear.

Greg hummed and smiled. “It just so happens that I’ve had a family emergency and will have to leave work early.”

Mycroft straightened and played along. “Anything the British Government can do to help?”

“That’s sweet of you to ask, but I can handle it.” Greg’s smile grew the longer he held his husband’s gaze. Starting to feel a bit barmy, he motioned to the lifts. “Just let me go get my things from my office.”

Greg walked up to his office looking like Christmas had come early. As he passed Sally’s desk he notified her he’d be leaving early. Sally did a double take and knew him well enough to know what had caused the sudden change in mood, and she smiled and assured him that she could hold down the fort.

Greg walked out of NSY with his scarf blowing in the crisp February wind. His smile returned in force when he found Mycroft waiting under his umbrella next to the car. Greg joined him under the protection from the wind. “I see your umbrella can be used for more than a bit of rain.”

“It has many uses, indeed.” Mycroft returned with a smile.

Mycroft opened the car’s door and let his husband in. Mycroft followed him. As the driver started toward their Kensington home, Greg’s heart started to race. He didn’t like going one day without touching Mycroft. And it had been days. Multiple.

He leaned over and placed his hand on the side of Mycroft’s face rubbing his thumb up his cheek. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Mycroft replied, sounding, for all the world, like the only thing that mattered was in front of him. Greg closed his eyes and drank in the moment. The wintery smell of Mycroft. His tea tree shampoo, his citrus soap, even the laundry detergent added to the pleasant scent. When his lips were met by his lover’s he leaned into them. Greg’s tongue glided across Mycroft’s bottom lip and Mycroft responded with a low groan, opening his mouth. Their tongues danced around each other, the kiss drawing out slow and sweet.

The car pulled up to their house and they reluctantly pulled apart and went inside. The lights were low, lit candles covering half of the flat surfaces. The house was full of blue violets and gardenias, their wedding flowers. Greg was awed at the beauty, and obvious effort that Mycroft had put into decorating the house.

“You didn’t come to NSY from the airport.” It wasn’t a question.

“I did not.”

“No wonder you don’t look knackered.”

Mycroft smiled his for-Greg-only smile again. He took Greg’s coat, as Greg toed his shoes off. A bottle of champagne in a bucket was in the sitting room near the fireplace where a low fire was emitting a pleasant heat and a orange glow.

Mycroft popped the cork of the bottle and poured Greg a glass. Greg looked Mycroft in the eye and said, “The best decision I’ve ever made was asking you out on our first date.”

Mycroft lifted his eyebrow in a look of disbelief.

“No, it truly was. I was terrified. Taking our relationship to a different level was something I wanted strongly for years before I finally asked you out. I found you extremely sexy in your suits. Your intelligence provoked feelings in me that even my ex hadn’t reached. And your hair. Mycroft, your dark ginger hair did things to me. I was worried that you would find me wanting. That I wouldn’t be able to keep up and that you would be disappointed -”

Mycroft interrupted Greg by taking Greg’s glass and setting both of theirs down. He looked at Greg with eyes filled with fervor. “My darling Gregory. You never have, nor will you ever be, disappointing or found lacking. You’re a brilliant man, the most impressive Detective Chief Inspector NSY employs, and darling. Don’t you know? You’re my silver fox. No one is more handsome or more sexy than you.”

Greg took these words in as if they provided life. He put his hand on Mycroft’s chest to balance himself, as he seemed to get a little dizzy. He caressed Mycroft’s lower lip with his thumb, biting his own. Greg pulled his husband down by the neck to kiss him. His hand moved from the chest to his lower back to pull Mycroft closer. He needed to feel Mycroft’s body against his.

As best as he could, he undid Mycroft’s tie and pulled it off. He then tried unbuttoning the suit jacket but was getting frustrated. His needs to have Mycroft close and remove his clothing were at war with each other. He huffed. Mycroft giggled and stepped back, just a tiny bit.

He looked at Greg as he went for Greg’s coat. Ever the gentleman, Mycroft still asked for consent any time he wanted to undress him. Marriage hadn’t changed him. Greg smiled his “yes, please” smile. The one he used when he couldn’t bring himself to vocalize his permission.

Mycroft removed Greg’s suit coat and threw it on the sofa. The tie followed. Greg grew impatient and pulled Mycroft down for a passionate kiss. Hands started roaming, the husbands touching each other. Greg still found himself unable to believe that he was able to touch him. To kiss him. To love him. He moved them down to their knees, they were closer in height at this level.

Greg continued kissing his lover as he slowly unbuttoned Mycroft’s shirt. He’d expressed, more than once, the sadness he felt when he couldn’t have quick access to skin due to the vest being there. Mycroft hadn't worn a vest. Greg pulled back with a surprised gasp when he noticed. He kissed Mycroft’s notch in his collar bone, lightly and reverently. He moaned. “I love this bit.”

Mycroft’s hands slid gently into Greg’s hair and held him close. He returned Greg’s moan with his own before uttering, “Gregory, please.”

Greg looked in Mycroft’s eyes and took in the moment before returning his mouth to Mycroft’s.

He returned to his task of undoing Mycroft’s shirt and with each button Greg rubbed the pad of his thumb on the exposed skin. He unbuttoned the cuffs, first removing the platinum engraved cufflinks that he had given his husband as a wedding gift. One read MLH and the other GLH. He placed them gently on the side table before completely removing Mycroft’s shirt. Greg’s own shirt was thrown aside shortly after.

Greg laid Mycroft down on their soft, plush carpet - placing a pillow from the sofa under Mycroft’s head. He kissed the notch again, smirking up at Mycroft. He kissed Mycroft’s left nipple and heard a moan. He sucked on it. Mycroft arched his back and moaned loudly. His responsive nipples had always been a favourite of Greg’s. He started rubbing the right nipple softly while he continued the oral stimulation of the other.

He pulled his mouth off with a loud smack and blew on the pink nub which then immediately tightened up and stood out. Greg’s hands moved toward Mycroft’s back and Greg's mouth moved slowly down the center of Mycroft’s flat but soft belly. He kneaded and massaged Mycroft’s back, needing to touch, and grab, and scratch.

Greg started dotting Mycroft’s belly with kisses at the level of the trousers. He pulled on the back of the belt with both hands. “Off, I want this off.” He sat up and undid Mycroft’s belt, pulled it out, and growled as he undid the button and zip. “No pants.”

Mycroft beamed at his husband who was staring at his full, long cock.

“You’ve no pants on,” he said, his breath becoming laboured. He looked at his fascinating husband with awe. “You never cease to amaze me, love. And I think you need a reward.” Greg pulled the suit pants off and tossed them thoughtlessly to the side. He placed his hands on the floor near Mycroft’s hips and lowered his mouth down onto Mycroft’s throbbing member and took it all down in one go.

Mycroft couldn’t help himself, and he thrusted his hips, arched his back, and threw his head back. His hands went to Greg’s hair, of their own volition, and squeezed hard. Greg leaned on one elbow and used his other hand to pull, just a little, on Mycroft’s sac. He came up for air, and then pulled the sac toward himself and used the momentum to go completely down again on the long prick. He loved deep throating. It brought him so much joy to bring the British Government to his knees - both literally and metaphorically. Greg went up for air again and returned his wet lips to the glans and slowly slid them down, farther and farther. His lips hit Mycroft's groin and he kept pushing. The throbbing cock was so far down Greg's throat that he could no longer breathe. He stayed there, swallowing and pulsing his tongue on the underside of the prick as long as his lungs would allow. Mycroft was writhing with pleasure. His hands squeezing Greg's hair, his hips bucking, and his feet pushing into the carpet.

Greg pulled up some, enough to breathe through his nose, and hummed, letting go of Mycroft’s sac. He grabbed the base of Mycroft's cock and squeezed. He started bobbing up and down as he sucked hard, hollowing out his cheeks. The hand he used, his cock, the hair on Mycroft's shaft and the balls were getting more and more wet with Greg's saliva. He pulled up and off and took a quick look at Mycroft while he rubbed the foreskin up and down, using his thumb to spread the pre-cum over the glans. Mycroft was properly debauched: cheeks and chest glowing red, hair mussed, and eyes half lidded. Greg grinned at his lover, enjoying the effect he had on him. And it only made Greg more hard.

Mycroft took hold of Greg’s head and pulled him up for a kiss. He kissed deeply, exploring Greg’s tongue, which tasted like him, and moved his hands to Greg’s belt, unbuckling it as quickly as his fingers would allow. Mycroft pushed the trousers down with his pants. He wrapped his long fingers around Greg’s thick dick. Greg threw his head back and hissed. He started pumping his cock in Mycroft’s hand and returned to kissing.

Mycroft pulled away from Greg who started kissing his neck, “Gregory please,” he whined, “please fuck me.”

Greg growled into Mycroft’s neck and looked back into Mycroft’s desperate eyes. “Oh, god yes.”

Greg finished removing his trousers and pants and kissed his way up Mycroft’s left leg. He nuzzled Mycroft’s groin and drank in the musk that Mycroft’s arousal created. He would bottle this scent if he could. Greg took one of Mycroft’s testicles into his mouth, sucking softly and scratching - just a bit - with his teeth. He took Mycroft’s left leg and placed it over his right shoulder. He loved this bit. His husband was laid bare in front of him. He was debauched and begging for more. Words seem to have escaped the British Government’s head. Instead, all he could do was whimper and whine while Greg made him wait.

Greg kissed the crease where the leg meets the ass. He licked it. He licked the line where leg meets groin. And kissed it. Greg moved down to his arse cheek which he bit and sucked just hard enough to leave a light red mark. The whining grew in frequency and volume the longer it took to get to the little pink spot that he was moving toward.

Greg moved down and kissed the perineum. He licked his balls again, and then moved them up with his left hand. He licked the perineum downward from the balls right down to his hole. Mycroft’s whining increased again and his foot pushed down on Greg’s back. Greg started licking his anus.

He used the flat part of his tongue to glide across the whole bud. The taste was earthy, but Mycroft had prepared well for this. Greg licked over and over and over, gently holding Mycroft’s balls up and roughly his left hip down. When the sphincter loosened Greg pressed his tongue in. He pulled it out and pressed it in again over and over, and over.

Mycroft’s hips seemed to be moving of their own accord while he just moaned, “Gregory,” holding out the ee sound at the end. “Please, Gre-, oh fucking Christ, please fuck me Gregory.”

Mycroft thrusted a small lube bottle at Greg, who stared, a bit dumbfounded, at Mycroft’s hand. “I was prepared for this eventuality,” he replied to Greg’s unspoken question.

Greg took the lube and slicked up his fingers, impatiently starting with two fingers instead of one, mumbling, “genius bastard.” He scissored his fingers stretching out the tight hole. "Now, Gregory, fuck me now."

He removed his fingers and used the lube on his own throbbing cock. He stroked himself a few times and then placed the tip at Mycroft’s entrance and pushed forward slowly.

Sometimes he didn’t know how to vocalize his feelings for Mycroft. The feelings were strong and could be overpowering. But he knew that he could show his husband. He could make love to him. And he would. Pushing his glans past the first tight spot, he kept going until he went through the second tight spot. He went all the way, and when he was finally fully seated, he looked into Mycroft’s eyes.

“Oh, My. I love you.” He kissed Mycroft slowly while he pumped his hips, pulling his cock out before pushing back in. He built a slow pace, continuing the kissing while doing it. He pulled up on Mycroft’s hips, pushing his dick onto Mycroft’s prostate. Mycroft pulled out of the kiss and threw his head back.

“Oh god..oh christ...Gre- yes.” Greg kept going with his slow pace. “Harder, Gregory. Please. Faster.”

Greg groaned, and grabbed tighter onto Mycroft’s hips. He started a punishing pace, he pushed hard and fast smacking his balls onto Mycroft’s ass. A sheen of sweat was covering Greg’s back and temples making him glisten in the firelight.

“My - close,” he sighed. “Come for me My. Cover yourself in your cum.”

As Greg continued to push hard and fast, Mycroft took his own leaking cock in hand and pumped. Once. Twice. He cried out as he arched his back and let his prick spurt his cum on his chest. He continued pumping as it left stream after stream of cum.

“Oh Christ, yes...Mycroft,” Greg shouted the name in the empty flat as he came, deep inside Mycroft’s ass. He looked down at Mycroft and licked a long swipe of cum into his mouth and swallowed.

“Mmmm...tasty.” He smiled at Mycroft, and laid down next to him, gently pulling out. He held Mycroft, and lazily kissed him on the shoulder.

“Happy Valenversary,” Greg murmured.

Mycroft’s eyes were closed, his face completely relaxed. Happiness radiated.

“Happy Valenversary, Gregory,” he whispered.


End file.
